Kindred
by caffinate-me
Summary: Soulmate AU. Once upon a time, every person had two heads, four arms and four legs, but only one soul. Split apart into two separate bodies, the souls were fated to wander the world alone until reunited, their skin sparking with knowing when they touched for the first time.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It happened on a Thursday during the mid-morning rush the random coffee shop he had found after his usual place had had a pipe burst. She ran into him when he pushed through the front door, their pinkies grazing when her shoulder rammed into his on her way out. Her shout- a mix of a curse and apology- lingered behind when she sped off down the sidewalk, half spilt cup of coffee clutched in her hand, golden brown hair training in a tangled mane after her. The echoed memory of her voice and lingering scent of perfume on his shirt were all of her that remained once she rounded the corner out of sight. It wasn't until the stagnant air in the overcrowded shop forced him to flick open the button on the cuff of his sleeve that he noticed the black numbers on the inside of his right wrist and any remaining breath streamed from his lungs.

Everyone knew the tale. His mother had told him the bedtime stories as a child, just like he had told his daughter- once upon a time, every person had two heads, four arms and four legs, but only one soul. Split apart into two separate bodies, the souls were fated to wander the world alone until reunited, their skin sparking with knowing when they touched for the first time.

The woman behind him in line cleared her throat, blood red nails tapping on the sleeve of her stiff black suit, when he failed to order. He shuffled out of the line with a muttered apology, bumping his way through the breakfast crowd until he found a free space near the wall. A flier for a handshaking party fluttered on the bulletin board behind him, the single remaining information strip grazing the collar of his burgundy shirt, but Rick Castle only stared at the countdown on his wrist. For most the numbers appearing on the skin of a fated pair was a cause for celebration, but where elation should be buzzing, dread sank like a stone.

00.00.02

* * *

"Kiddo!"

His mother's voice rang through the space of Rick's Manhattan loft when he pushed open the door but Rick was still frowning, eyes focused down. His left thumb skated over the newly tattooed skin of his right wrist like rubbing the numbers would make them change.

"Richard?"

"Huh?"

"My son, the writer. Always so eloquent with your words." Martha Rogers tittered, her gold bangle bracelets jangling as she waved his inelegance away with a flick of her hand.

Rick shook his head, focusing on his mother even as his thumb continued to rub across the numbers on his wrist.

"While it's always a delight to be the subject of your wit, may I ask what you're doing here, mother?" The automatic quip rolled off his tongue even as he leaned over to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.

"I came to see my favorite son and granddaughter, of course."

"Of course. So, naturally, you came by while I was out and Alexis was at school?" He questioned, one eyebrow quirked.

"Okay, fine. I need to stay here for a couple of days- some plumbing problems in my building, you know how it is. I'll be quiet as a mouse. You won't even know I'm here, I promise," his mother replied with a smile.

"Uh huh."

Martha Rogers was many things, quiet was not one of them. He made a mental note to give strict instructions to the doorman not to let anyone up in the middle of the night, no matter who they were, and to buy Alexis earplugs so she could sleep and study during whatever "social event" his mother was already planning for his spacious living room.

"Why are you holding your arm? Are you hurt?"

"Hmm?" Rick forced his hands to his sides, thumb still twitching. "Oh it's nothing."

"That's not nothing, Richard. Is that-? Did you-?" She grabbed his hand with a move that would make a sensei proud. Dragging him over to the kitchen, she shoved his sleeve up his arm and held it up to the light for further inspection. True soulmates were rare. Many gave up the search for their own true match, citing it as impossible and settled down with a mate they loved to live happy lives. Others described finding a soulmate by accident as nothing short of miraculous. Matchmaking companies made billions using algorithms to sort through the population, selecting a small pool of possible soulmates for a client. Sometimes it worked, other times it didn't, but randomly running into your soulmate in a crowded coffee shop was unheard of. "It is! Richard, this is fantastic! Who is she, where is she? How did you meet? Tell me everything. Actually, wait, let me get the champagne. We need to toast this."

"Mother," Rick interrupted. The pain in his voice caused Martha to stop flitting around the kitchen, champagne flute in hand. "Look at the number."

He rolled his sleeve away from his wrist, and held his arm out so the black letters shown clear through the bright room.

00.00.02

Martha let out a shaky breath.

"Two? Two days?" She whispered, all vibrato lost.

Rick nodded in reply, swallowing down the bile in his throat. "I don't even know who she is and in two days she's going to die."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

Detective Kate Beckett- if she could even call herself that anymore- trudged over the threshold of her apartment, shoulders slumped, head throbbing. She dropped her jacket and bag in a heap by the front door and stepped out of her heels, a soft groan escaping as she flexed her toes.

The day had gone from bad to worse to almost laughable. She should have listened to that voice the back of her mind telling her to stay in bed that morning, not that it would have changed anything, but maybe it would have bought her a few more moments of ignorant bliss.

She made her way over to the small kitchen, swiping a bottle of wine off the shelf as she walked around the island to the utensil drawer. Her hand fished through the random collection of kitchenware, searching for the single corkscrew that always managed to elude her. Her former captain- her mentor- was dead, shot in his own house the night before. And if that hadn't been bad enough the powers-that-be up in One Police Plaza had suspended her badge pending investigation and psychiatric review. Sure she had been a little jumpy since that botched undercover op a couple months before but she was fine. She slammed a fist down on the counter and lifted her eyes toward the ceiling. She had no one, nothing. Everyone was gone. Even her own partners were handling her with kid gloves. Now, she couldn't even find the one tool she needed to open the bottle of Cabernet.

Abandoning her quest for wine, Kate pushed up on her tiptoes and reached for the bottle of vodka on the top shelf of her cabinet. The tips of her shaking fingers fumbling against the slick glass, inching it toward the edge until it teetered over the side. She placed the bottle on the counter and gulped down a calming breath. She needed to pull herself together.

Kate wandered through the apartment the clear liquor burning down her throat, warmth flowing through her veins. She took swigs from the bottle, staring sightless at framed photographs of smiling faces and the spines of book until the tingling warmth turned to numbness. One night. She would give herself one night to mourn and fall apart, then she would come up with a plan. She'd figure it out.

What was the point? You're born, you live, work, search for your soulmate, if you're lucky you find them. But are you really lucky? Watching time tick away, a constant reminder that your time together is finite? Isn't it better to just be happy with someone, soulmate or no? An hour, a night, a lifetime with no known expiration date.

The zeros on Evelyn Montgomery's wrist had mesmerized her. Kate's eyes had remained trained on them no matter how hard she had tried to look away. They had already started to fade from the bold black to a dull grey.

Kate's lips moved, sending Evelyn's words echoing through the dark apartment. "I knew it was coming, Detective. We both did. That's why Roy retired when he did 3 years ago. We wanted that time together. You can't escape fate."

But couldn't you though? Couldn't you escape it if you never let it find you in the first place? Her eyes roved around the silent space. Or was it better to have someone even with a fated expiration? Was it better to spend the day to day with someone so in sync with yourself that you didn't care about the constant reminder that every second was ticking toward an inevitable end?

Montgomery had known his time was coming, and he had just accepted it has fate. Kate let out a snort, taking another swig from the bottle. He could have fought, hidden, done something- anything- to challenge his fate but instead he had sent his wife and children away and accepted that it was his time to die.

Kate wobbled across the threshold of her bedroom- minutes, hours- later. Time was fleeting. The empty vodka bottle clattered to the floor, any remaining liquor leaking out of the spout and into the carpet. Her body swayed then followed in a ragged heap.

She stumbled into the bathroom hours later, head buzzing, a trail of coffee-stained clothes behind her and stared into the mirror, cloudy, red-rimmed eyes staring back. There had to be more than this. More than living for a job that could be taken away from you at any moment. More than mental turmoil at every loud noise and body of water. She hadn't even been able to take a bath since that op… More than jumping from relationship to relationship without ever fully committing. She ran her hands through her hair, tangled from a day's worth of New York grease and grime, pausing when she caught glimpse of the black marks in the mirror. She swayed on the spot. Her body, fuzzy with vodka and wonder, unable to freeze.

54.02.03

Kate pitched back, slamming into the cold bathroom wall as she slipped down, vertebrae bumping from tile to tile until her butt hit the floor. A hysterical laugh burst from her lips, hiccuped into a sob. It was real. Her thumb ran over the numbers, smearing the tears that continued to fall over the freshly tattooed skin before curling her hand into her chest. Sometime in the last twelve hours she had met her soulmate.

"Once upon a time..." She mumbled. The words heavy on her tongue, and she drew in a jagged breath. "Two heads. Four arms. Four legs."

Her eyes turning upward toward the heavens as the tears dried. "One soul."

She just had to make it through the next few days dredged in black- the funeral, the eval- then she would find him.

Fifty-four years, two months, three days.

They had a lifetime together.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He had seen it for himself over the years-the way his mother would sit on the couch with a glass of wine, fingers rubbing over the ticking numbers. Now it was his turn-two fingers of scotch flowing through his veins, the numbers ticking down toward their inevitable end.

"Do you think the universe, God, whatever mystical force created this tattoo, made a mistake?" The words were off his lips before his alcohol-addled mind could censor them.

"The numbers are never mistakes, you know that. Everything happens for a reason." His mother responded, bringing her glass of wine to her lips as she surveyed her son from her place propped on the leather chair next to the couch.

"Even with you?" His eyes fell to the 10.04.23 peeking through the stack of bangles on his mother's wrist. "One night, then he was gone, and you were left with a constant reminder of how long you have left to find each other again?"

"Richard, have you ever considered that staying with him wasn't my fate? That maybe he served his purpose in that one night that we loved fully?"

Rick's head cocked to the side, eyes squinting in question until his mother let out a huff.

"You, my darling stubborn boy. He gave me you. Fate can work in mysterious ways. I read once that soulmates are meant to make you whole. And your father made me whole by giving me you. There's a reason why you ran into this girl and why it happened now. So you can either sit around and continue to pout, wasting more precious time or you can seize the hours you have left and see what the universe has planned for you."

Martha downed the rest of her Cabernet in one swift sip. Rising from her chair, she dropping a kiss to Rick's head before sashaying over to deposit her glass in the kitchen sink. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a date, don't wait up. Ta!"

She was out the door, fingers wiggling in a wave and Rick slouched further down into the cushions while he stared at the numbers on the inside of his right wrist.

A moment later he pushed himself off of the couch, snagged his coat from the hall closet, and was out the door without a second thought.

* * *

If ever asked, Castle would stand by his reasoning. The number of zeros behind the one on the check had been more than worth it when two hours later he found himself pouring over security camera footage from the coffee shop and the surrounding stores. A disgruntled barista leaned against the wall behind him in the back office of the shop- foot tapping with impatience. People scurried across the screen at hyper speed until he hit the pause button, the screen freezing on the frame where his shoulder collided with hers, her body jolting. A curtain of honey-brown hair hung around her face and he could see his own lips twisting around a hurried apology. Clumsy fingers fumbled with the knob, scrolling through the footage frame by frame as she turned, hair flipping over her shoulder and shouted back at him.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he snapped a picture, eyes never straying from the screen. He had to find her, if only to see her one last time before… to tell her he was sorry they had not found each other sooner, to let her know that he would find her again, if only in their next life.

She had paid with cash. It had taken him an hour of cross referencing receipts with the timestamp on the video footage but he found her. Grande skim latte with two pumps sugar-free vanilla for Kate.

Kate.

It's a beautiful name. Strong. Succinct. Elegant. Just like the woman in the video taking her coffee from the barista, the same barista that happened to be sitting in the room with him.

She huffed, and Rick turned to see the girl, who couldn't be much older than his daughter, sitting slouched in a chair mindlessly scrolling through her phone behind him.

"Do you know this woman?"

"What's it to you? It's bad enough I gotta babysit you after pulling a double, but I'm not gonna help you stalk some chick." The girl pegged him with a glare, the small patch of rainbow hair that was not shaved flopping down over her forehead.

"Look, it's not like that. She's-" Castle hesitated, one hand wrapping around the numbers on his wrist, and the girl leaned back in her chair, tattooed arms crossed over her chest in silent challenge. "She's my soulmate. I need to find her."

Precious seconds ticked by, his hands clenched in his lap as she studied him.

"Please."

"Fine." She relented with a roll of her eyes. "Tell you what I know."

Rick's hands moved up to thread through his hair as he breathed out in relief. "Thank you. Oh god, thank you."

"Name's Kate. She's a regular. Comes in at least three mornings a week. Some afternoons. Works around here, I think. She was upset this morning. Didn't look like she'd slept, and her eyes were puffy like she'd been crying. Normally she smiles, small talk, you know? This morning wasn't the same. Guess she was having a bad day." The girl shrugged before looking back down at her phone.

Rick turned to look at the monitor, studying the strained smile gracing Kate's face, the pain etched in her features. The small details he had shoved from his memory coming back. He could still hear the ring of her words in his ears, the scratch of her throat he had dismissed at the time.

"Do you have any idea where she works?"

The barista shrugged again, lips smacking in lazy contemplation. "She's a cop."

Rick's demeanor perked at the tidbit of information. "A cop? You're sure?"

"Ninety-nine point nine. Wears a badge. Either she's a cop or the world's hottest security guard." A smirk pulled at the girl's pierced lip, her eyebrows waggling at him and Rick couldn't help but smile back.

"She is beautiful, isn't she?"

"Yep. Lucky bastard. First time I saw her I made sure our fingers touched when she took her cup, just in case. Alas, nothing. I can only hope my mate is as hot as yours." The girl winked then pushed out of her chair and slid her phone into her back pocket. "Sorry, that's all I can tell you."

"No, don't be sorry, you were great. Here, for your trouble."

The girl looked down at the hundred dollar bill between them, and accepted it with a shrug, shoving it into the stained pocket of her apron. "Hope you find her."

"Me too."

The sky was black when the manager let him out the locked front door, but it was far from dark. Neon signs and apartment lights lit up the city streets. Bustling groups of twenty-something's teetered on stiletto heels in and out of bars. A car alarm sounded in the distance and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

The humid night air closed in on him, suffocating, as he wandered aimlessly through the streets of the city he grew up in, the city he loved. The city of millions.

He had a name, a face, a profession. He could find her. He would. He scraped his palm down his face, scrubbing at grainy eyes and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Hey man. Yeah, I know, I'm sorry to wake you. I need a favor- a list of all the female cops in the city with any variation of the name Kate- Caitlin, Katherine, Kathleen, Katerina, etc. And I need it first thing in the morning. I know, I know, I'm sorry but it's literally life and death.

"Thanks, man. I owe you. Big. Like a week in the Hamptons big. I'll be at your office at eight. I'll explain then. Bye."

Rick glanced down at his wrist when stopped at a crosswalk. The world spun around him.

00.00.01


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Kate kept her eyes trained forward as she tugged the zipper up the back of her black dress. It was a one-two punch. Not only was she burying her mentor- the man who had been so much like a father while her own was drowning at the bottom of a bottle, but she couldn't even wear her dress blues to do it. The uniform, in which Montgomery had taught her to stand tall, hung in the back of her closet, hidden from the shame of her badge locked in the Captain's desk drawer.

She caught a glimpse of the tattoo as she reached up to pin back her hair. It had changed overnight. The final three now a bold black two. For a few moments the night before, she had given in- allowed herself to believe the possibility that there was more. But her parents? Evelyn and Roy? No. Fate had a sick sense of humor. The damn tattoo always ended in heartbreak.

She forced her eyes forward as she brushed on a quick layer of make up and looped the long thin silver chain around her neck. The watch was the last step, and she buckled it in place, covering the numbers without a second thought.

"Sometimes even fate makes mistakes."

She was tossing back two aspirin when her phone chirped. She pulled it out of the pocket of her leather jacket on a sigh- expecting Esposito's or Ryan's name to flash across the screen- another attempt to comfort, something both her partners were painfully bad at. Instead her brow furrowed at the blocked number and she crossed the room for the back-up gun she kept in her side table as she brought the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Kate Beckett. I'm a friend of Roy Montgomery's. I'm only going to say this once so listen carefully- don't go to the funeral. I slid a package under your door last night- do with it what you will, but I'd recommend you get out of town while you figure it out."

"Wait. Hello?" Kate called into the phone only to be answered by silence.

Gun in hand she rushed across the apartment and scooped the plain Manila envelope off the front mat. Pages fluttered as she dumped the contents of the package onto the kitchen island, spreading them apart with frantic fingers while her eyes skimmed the contents.

"Oh holy fucking hell."

She shoved the pages back into the envelope and stashed the entire package in a leather backpack and she hurried back through the apartment, stripping off the dress and heels and replacing them with black pants and boots. She threw her jacket back on over her plain shirt, and the few thing she needed in her pack as she hurried through the space. Her phone in her pocket and her gun hidden in her boot she was out the door in a matter of minutes, never bothering to look back.

* * *

The sun shone bright over the cemetery. It felt wrong. Mother nature wasn't supposed to be smiling. She should be shrouding them in darkness, letting them use the rain to hide their tears.

Kate swallowed, forcing back her own sadness as she watched them lower the body of her mentor into the ground. Handkerchiefs and tissues blotted at eyes and noses as the mass of people gathered around the grave failed to do the same. A silver haired man at the back of the congregation caught her eye and she pulled her phone out of her pocket, watching him walk away from the crowd as it rang.

"Katie?"

"Hey, Dad." Kate replied from her perch on her Harley across the road.

"Katie where are you? I figured you would be here."

"I know. I'm sorry, something came up and I need to leave town for a bit."

Kate watched as her father glanced around the cemetery.

"Kate, what's wrong?" He continued, voice low.

"I can't get into it now but I have it under control. I'm just heading up to the cabin to lay low for a couple of days while everything plays out. If anyone asks, you don't know where I am, got it?"

"Yeah, Katie, I hear you. Take care of yourself. I love you."

"I love you too. Dad?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Do you think fate made a mistake? With mom? Her clock hadn't hit zero yet when…"

Jim Beckett's sigh filtered through the speaker and Kate watched as he scrubbed a hand through his short hair. "I don't think fate made a mistake. We were meant to spend many more years together, but I do think that when someone wants something enough they have the ability to change fate- for better or for worse."

"So you don't think it was an accident? A blip?"

"No, Katie. I never did. It takes a lot more than a blip to change fate. But for what it's worth, I'd rather have those years with your mother, even abridged, than no time at all."

"I gotta go. I love you. And Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I like the hair cut."

She could see her father chuckle as she pulled on her helmet and cranked her Harley to life. With a deep breath she pressed the inside of her wrist to her chest. Just a couple more days and then she would face fate.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Beckett. Katherine Beckett. Kate. He compared the photos again, squinting at the grainy face from the security footage. It was her. Her hair was lighter, her features older- eyes more tired than the fresh faced rookie staring back at him from the personnel file, but it had to be her. None of the others came close.

Rick jolted when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

"Is that her?"

"Hey, Bob. Yeah, I think so."

"She's beautiful, Rick. One of the best cops in the city from what I've heard. Of course, you deserve nothing less."

Rick smiled. Who knew the Mayor of New York City was such a romantic? "Thanks, man. Look I'd love to stay and chat but I'm on a tight timetable."

"No problem, Ricky. Is there any way I can help? The entire city of New York is at my disposal."

"Thanks, I appreciate it, but this is something I need to do myself. It's fate, right? It's not like we can change it."

"If anyone can change fate, Rick, it's you. Good luck, man."

"Thanks, Bob." Rick replied as he stood and clasped the mayor's hand in his own. "I owe you one."

"Just the story, Rick. It's been what- five, six years since Derrick Storm? The world misses your words."

"I miss them too."

"Get out of here. Go find your girl."

* * *

NYPD's twelfth precinct buzzed with activity. Uniformed officers strolled through the lobby- manning the desk, escorting cuffed miscreants and sobbing victims to the appropriate locations. Radios hummed and whirred, filling the air with static and garbled words. A plainclothes detective brushed past him, high fiving a couple other officers with his free hand as his other balanced a teetering stack of coffees.

"Excuse me," Rick stated, approaching the desk. "I'm looking for a detective- Kate Beckett."

"Fourth floor, homicide." The officer stated, glancing up only long enough to assess that the man in front of him was not crazy, nor covered in blood. "Gotta sign in, get a visitor's badge."

A clip board clattered to the counter in front of him and Rick grasped the pen chained to the top in his sweaty palm.

"Elevator's behind me on the left." The officer informed him, as he took the board back and slapped a worn, peeling badge in its vacant spot on the counter. "Make sure to return that when you leave."

"Will do." Rick gave the officer a nod and rounded the desk, clipping the badge to his shirt pocket. He pushed the elevator call button and shifted from foot to foot, knees quivering as he waited for it to arrive.

The fourth floor was eerily quiet when Rick stepped off of the creaking elevator and into the homicide bullpen. Under other circumstances he would have been bouncing with glee at the chance to poke around an actual police station- without the cuffs- but instead of pounding with anticipation, his heart sank with dread at the sight of Kate Beckett's empty chair.

"Excuse me," he called at a passing uniformed officer. The cop, who couldn't have been more than twenty, with a fresh smattering of pimples across his round cheeks, stopped short. "Can you help me, I'm looking for a detective. Kate Beckett. Is she here?"

"I- uh-" the young uniform- Tobin, according to his badge- stuttered, his eyes darting to the empty desk in the middle of the bullpen. "No. Detective Beckett isn't here."

"Okay, do you know when she'll be back? It's urgent." Rick continued, sweat clinging to his spine.

"No, Sir, and after what happened yesterday I'm not sure if she'll be back at all." Tobin shrugged.

"What happened yesterday?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir," the kid stuttered, his cheeks beaming beet red. "I don't think I should be talking about it. I shouldn't have said anything at all."

"It could be a matter of life and death. I really need to find her."

"If someone's in danger I can get you another detective. Captain Gates should be back any moment."

"No. Please," the word slipped past Rick's lips, the pleading tone one he had never heard in his own voice. "It has to be Beckett."

Tobin's eyes shifted around the bullpen- thinking, evaluating- before his spit shined NYPD issues boots clomped two steps closer. "She's probably at the cemetery. The former Cap's funeral is today. Most everyone went, those of us who didn't serve under him are holding down the fort."

"Which cemetery?"

"Saint Vincent's. She might not be there though. Gates told her she couldn't give the eulogy because of the suspension."

Rick swallowed down the lump in his throat only to have it settle in his gut. He sucked in a breath, forcing back the bleak imagines pushing to the surface of his mind. "Thank you. Thank you."

* * *

A motorcycle roared out past him when he turned into St Vincent's Cemetery. The wrought iron gates creaked in the spring breeze, an ominous contradiction to the bright blue sky.

Rick pulled his car to a stop at the curb. Sunglasses hid the eyes of mourners trudging away from the fresh grave, dabbing tissues at their noses.

His fingers fumbled with the belt release, missed the door handle. On the third try he managed to push open the door with his foot and clambered out. He scanned faces, head dipping to see around curtains of hair and oversized glasses as he wandered to the plot where a few mourners were still gathered. The copied photograph, grainy from the cheap black and white printer hung like a weight in his jacket pocket, anchoring his resolve when each face failed to be a match.

"Excuse me," he said, approaching a group of men and women who lingered around the grave. One woman turned, silently voted by the group as the spokesperson, and he gave her an apologetic smile. A black lace veil shielded her eyes, accenting her ruby red lips. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm looking for someone, a cop."

"Well you stopped by the right funeral for that." She quipped, and Rick shifted feet as her eyes assessed his sport coat, and jeans. "I take it you weren't invited."

"Um no, well not really. I'm looking for Kate, Detective Beckett. She asked me to meet her here." The lie flubbed off his tongue and the purse of her lips told him that she knew.

"Really?" The incredulous lilt of the question had him backpedaling when a hand clasped his shoulder.

"Hi Lanie, I'll take it from here." A deep voice sounded behind him.

The woman gave the newcomer a kind smile over Rick's shoulder and Rick winced when the fingers tightened, tips digging into muscle.

The hand lifted and Rick turned on a steadying breath to face his new acquaintance. Expecting a burly, intimidating cop, he had to cover his surprise when a man a head shorter than himself with salt and pepper hair came into view.

"Now, tell me son, what do you want with Kate Beckett?"

Small beads of sweat popped up along Rick's hairline and his hand closed over the numbers on his wrist of its own will.

"I just need to talk to her, sir. I have some important information for her."

"Important information, hmm? About what?" The man's arms folded over his chest, lips pressed in a straight line, and Rick reassessed his level of intimidation.

Rick stuttered, eyes darting around in a fruitless attempt to find someone to come to his aid. "I'm sorry, sir, but it's private and urgent and I really just need to find Detective Beckett."

The man's eyes trailed down, lingering where Rick's fingers twitched and fidgeted over his tattoo.

"Let me see your wrist."

"What? Why?" Rick's fingers tightened and he took an involuntary step back.

"Because you are way too twitchy to be any sort of psychopath and you've been holding it like a lifeline since you got out of your expensive car over there. So if you want me to tell you anything, you will show me what the hell you're hiding and then we'll talk."

Rick studied the man- his short but authoritative stature, the hardness behind kind eyes- and nodded. Unclasping the button of his cuff with shaking fingers, he shoved his shirt sleeve up and rotated his wrist so the countdown faced out.

"My name is Rick Castle. Yesterday I ran into Kate- Detective Beckett at a coffee shop. I didn't notice the numbers until I got home, I've been doing everything I can to find her ever since. Please, if you have any information on how I can find her before… Please."

Rick fell silent once the plea tumbled from his lips, but the man only continued to stare at the tattoo.

"That's- that's Katie?"

The words were barely more than a whisper but they had Rick's heart beating double time. "Yes." The word felt like taffy in his throat and the man turned his paled face to look at his.

"She-um-Katie was just here. She said she had to lay low for a couple of days. I got the sense that something was wrong but she wouldn't say. She was headed to a cabin upstate. I'll give you the address."

"Thank you." The words tumbled from Rick's lips and relief flooded his chest.

The man flipped open a small spiral bound notebook he pulled from his jacket pocket and jotted down the address. He ripped the page free and stared down at it before looking up to meet Rick's eye once again. "My wife was a fan of your books. When she died my daughter started reading them, said they made her feel close to her mother again. It was a pity when you stopped writing."

He held out the small sheet of paper and it fluttered in the breeze until Rick's hand clasped around it. "I miss it too. Thank you-"

"Jim. Jim Beckett."

The breath Rick had worked so hard to catch, flew from his lungs and Jim's hand clasped his shoulder once again, this time in solidarity rather than suspicion.

"Go help my daughter."


End file.
